Trap
by Arikae
Summary: D'Artagnan is alone and in pain, waiting for his friends to find him because he knew they would. Musketeers watch each other's backs.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

**The Tavern:**

Two Red Guards sat in the corner table. A man with a hood sat with them. Coins and a paper were exchanged in silence. The man left. The Red Guard Captain opened the paper. It was a map. He smiled. It was time the Red Guards got their revenge.

**Musketeers' Garrison:**

The King's Musketeers were sparring in the courtyard of the garrison. Ever since D'Artagnan and the Musketeers unmasked the Cardinal to the Queen and drove Milady out of France, the streets of Paris have been quieter. They still had to deal with wanted criminals but without the Cardinal hatching plans, for now anyway, their jobs were made easier.

Aramis and Porthos watched their two friends sparring. "Oooh!" Aramis winced at how close D'Artagnan got to getting an advantage over Athos. "He's getting good." Aramis whispered to Porthos.

Porthos agreed, impressed "And this time, Athos isn't going easy on him."

Aramis smiled, remembering how D'Artagnan had entered the garrison determined to kill Athos. The boy had a natural way with the sword considering his only training while growing up was on a farm with his late-father. Athos was right when he said D'Artagnan could be the greatest of them all, but in order for him to get there, he needed more than training with his sword.

D'Artagnan laughed as he dodged and parried Athos's moves. He enjoyed training with his friends. He had a lot to learn but he was a quick study and Athos had to admit that he was finding it harder and harder to catch the boy off-guard. Aramis faked attacking D'Artagnan's legs, who moved to block it, only to find another sword at his throat. It was hard, but not impossible. D'Artagnan rose slowly with the tip of Athos's sword still at his throat, smiling. "Careful, Athos. One bump and I'm dead." He carefully pushed the sword aside before sheathing his own. "One day, I am going to take you down." D'Artagnan promised his mentor.

Athos laughed and sheathed his sword, "Don't hold your breath, apprentice. You've still got a lot to learn."

Aramis and Porthos clapped as they walked up to them. It was an impressive duel. "I can go again." D'Artagnan was saying. "Unless you're too tired. I'll show you how much I've learned."

Aramis shook his head at the over-zealous young man, "Not today. Today, you have training of another sort." He threw his arm over D'Artagnan's shoulder and led him over the table by the steps. On it was a travel satchel and a map.

D'Artagnan frowned at the items. "What's this for?" He opened the satchel and found a couple of bandages, a flint, a small knife and a gauze. He raised his eyebrows at his friends, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"They're the bare essentials for survival training." Athos pointed to the map on the table. "You are to head out to this area in the woods beyond the outskirts of Paris."

D'Artagnan leaned in closer to the map. He knew the area well enough. He was about to pick it out when a dagger came down on it, pinning it to the table. D'Artagnan pulled his hand back, glaring at Porthos, "You almost took my hand off."

Porthos waved away the complaint, "Ehh…I barely touched you."

"What was that for anyway?"

"You're not taking the map." Aramis explained, "You see, there are times when Musketeers are given missions so secretive that they cannot carry any item that may reveal details of the mission. Including…" Aramis gestured to the map, "A map. You need to memorise the exact location because you won't get to see it a second time." He pulled out Porthos's dagger and folded up the map, handing the dagger back to Porthos.

D'Artagnan shrugged, "So when do I start?"

Athos shoved the satchel into D'Artagnan's chest, "Now." He turned D'Artagnan around shoved him towards the gate.

D'Artagnan turned around, "Now?"

The three Musketeers looked at him and smiled. "There are also times when you have no time to prepare. This is preparing you for that time as well." D'Artagnan let out a breath and turned back around. "It shouldn't take you more than three days! There's a surprise waiting at the end for you. Bring it back to complete the training!" Porthos called at D'Artagnan's back. D'Artagnan threw a wave behind him and continued.

"Five livres he doesn't make it on time." Porthos opened the bet. He did enjoy a wager.

"You don't have five livres." Aramis snorted, "Anyway, you'll lose. I bet he'll make it with half a day to spare."

"I'll take that bet." Porthos laughed, "And I managed to get 30 livres for the tournament with the Red Guards, I'll manage five." He turned to Athos, "How about you?"

Athos shook his head, for some reason he had a bad feeling in his gut. "I should follow him."

"Not a chance. He has to be able to do this on his own." Aramis exclaimed. "Anyway, he'll think you don't have faith in him and that's worse than failing the test for him."

Athos sighed, the bad feeling wouldn't go away, "I know, it's just…"

"Nothing. The kid has proven himself ten times over, he'll make it. He may be young, but he's a survivor." Porthos reassured his friend, giving his shoulder a squeeze, "So care to make a wager."

Athos nodded, his friends were right, he needed to have more faith in the young Gascon. "He'll make it with a day to spare."

Aramis whistled, "And I thought I was optimistic."

Porthos grinned, "It's like taking candy from a baby."

D'Artagnan smiled as he made his way through the woods. He loved his job and he loved being out in the open. If he was out here with his friends, it would be make this day perfect but seeing as it's a part of his training he will take it in stride. He walked for about a couple of hours when his stomach grumbled. He stopped with a hand on his stomach, "They could've let me have some lunch before sending me off." He complained to himself before he remembered this being a survival training which would include being able to find food. "Well, they've left me with my sword and my pistol. This shouldn't be too hard."

**Two hours later…**

D'Artagnan finished off his lunch and stood quickly. He wasted a lot of time hunting for game. He wasn't happy with himself. He had gone hunting with his father plenty of times, he didn't understand why it took so long this time. He needed to make up for time. Which meant no rest for at least six hours. He's done it before. The hare he caught was big enough to last him the rest of the mission as long as he rationed it.

**Musketeers' Garrison…**

It was getting dark and most of the men had retired for the night. Athos sat on the steps and drank his wine. Aramis and Porthos have spent the entire day trying to take his mind off D'Artagnan, but now that they have each left searching for their night's conquest, the bad feeling in his gut returned. It was the same feeling he had when they had sent D'Artagnan to find out where Vadim had hidden the gunpowder. He wished he had Aramis's and Porthos's faith in the boy, or at least didn't worry about him so much. It was frustrating for Athos to be feeling this way. He shook his head at himself. This was stupid. He was worrying over nothing. Finishing off his wine, he stood and retired to his room.

D'Artagnan looked up at the sky. The sun was setting, which meant it was time he found a place to rest. As much as he wanted to continue, travelling at night was dangerous and foolish. However, he still had about half an hour of daylight left, which gave him time to find a good place to settle for the night.

He heard the 'snap' before the pain registered, bolting up his right leg and sending him onto his back. "AAAAHHHHHH…" The scream resounded throughout the woods but were only heard by animals.

Athos frowned at the broken wine bottle he had just knocked over while getting ready for sleep. Hmmm…he must've drank more than he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

D'Artagnan laid on the ground, breathing hard as he tried to work out what had just happened and why his right leg felt like it was burning. He knew he couldn't lie here all night if he wanted those questions answered. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself onto his elbows. It was dark now, which made it hard to see but the moon did provide some light. He tried to move his right leg but that just caused more pain. He threw his head back growling as the pain got worse when he barely moved it. He squinted, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His blood froze when he saw the contraption around his ankle. Bear trap. He dropped back to the ground, trying to think how he was going to get out of this.

He was about to sit up to see what he could do to get out of the trap when he heard a growl from his left. He turned towards it. A wolf. "Can this night get any worse?" He asked himself as he pulled out his gun and cocked it. Wolves hunt in packs. D'Artagnan knew this which meant if there were two, he probably won't survive, but if there were more, he would not survive. As much as he wanted to look to see if there were others, he knew it would be dangerous to take his eyes off this one. "Please just be one." The wolf bared his teeth at D'Artagnan as it took cautious steps towards him. "You know, this could've been you. You should be thanking me, not trying to eat me." He could feel the sweat running down his neck and back as he took aim. He didn't want to kill the animal if he didn't have to, so he waited. The wolf growled again, this time louder and then pounced. D'Artagnan's lead ball left its barrel and caught the wolf straight through the heart. It dropped and didn't move. D'Artagnan stared at the dead wolf, his heart pounding. Suddenly, his gun seemed so heavy. He let it fall from his hand. His eyes grew heavy. It started raining. D'Artagnan laughed, "Guess it can get worse." He words barely left his lips before he fell unconscious.

* * *

D'Artagnan woke up to voices. It took him a while before he remembered the predicament he was in. He tried to open his eyes, but they were refusing to obey. "You got him, Captain." Captain? Who were these people? "Of course I did. Damn Musketeer scum! They think they're better than us. You wait until they come out here and find their man left for dead like the animal he is."

Red guards. D'Artagnan concentrated on opening his eyes. "The animal's awake, Captain." One of the guards sneered at him. D'Artagnan glared at him through tired eyes. He couldn't see the Captain as he was standing out of his line of sight.

"Get me out this." D'Artagnan hated how weak his voice was.

He heard laughter. From what he could hear, there were four of them. "Why would we do that when we put you in it in the first place?"

D'Artagnan became more alert at that. "You set this trap."

"And you stepped right into it…literally." They laughed again.

D'Artagnan scoffed at them, "Of course, you can't beat a Musketeer in a duel so you stoop down to this. I understand." His tone was condescending and he got some satisfaction from the look on the man's face. "Aaaahh!" D'Artagnan threw his head back when one of the guards kicked the trap. He laid there groaning as the men laughed around him.

The Captain grabbed him by the jaw and forced D'Artagnan to look at him. "I would put you out of your misery, but that's too good for you. You can stay here, chained up like the animal you are and die…slowly." He clicked his fingers at someone and was handed a pauldron. "This was left at the site you were supposed to get to. I think I'll keep it as a souvenir." He smiled at the anger in the boy's eyes and then stood. "Get his guns and swords. I don't want him to be able to defend himself if more animals come to tear his flesh off his bones."

"You better count your body parts, because you're going to be losing them when my friends catch up to you." D'Artagnan was sure of it. He had faith in his friends.

"How would they know who to look for?"

D'Artagnan laughed, exhausted, "Unlike the Red Guards, they're not stupid." Another kick to his leg sent him into oblivion. He wasn't awake to see the men mount their horse and leave.

**Late afternoon at the Tavern…**

Athos, Aramis and Porthos sat at their usual table at the back of the Tavern, drinking and talking about where D'Artagnan would be right now. "Do you think he'll like the surprise we left him?" Aramis asked, knowing full well D'Artagnan would be touched by the pauldron. They spent a couple of nights whittling in the design on the shoulder guard. They had laughed at the words on the pauldron knowing only D'Artagnan would know what it meant.

"He'll love it…" Porthos smiled, "If he gets to it."

"What makes you think he won't make it?" Athos complained.

"Okay, fine…he'll make it," Porthos was grinning, "But not before I take my money from ya both!"

Another Musketeer walked up to them. He was short, but built. He had to be to be a Musketeer. He had a thin moustache and a long face. He was grinning at them. Athos frowned and looked at his friends, amused. Aramis shrugged, but he was the gentleman of the trio. "How can we help you, Du..." He clicked his fingers as if trying to figure out the name, "...something to do with a tower or castle..."

"Fort?" Porthos guessed.

"That's it!" Aramis pointed his fingers at Porthos, grinning, then turned back to the man, "Dufort!" Athos knew the name Aramis knew his name. He just knew how much it annoyed the man when people forgot who he was. "Do you have a message for us?"

Dufort looked offended, but covered it quickly. "No, actually, I was wondering if I could buy you all a round."

"Why?" Aramis asked, suspicious.

"Aramis, don't look a gift horse in the mouth! The man wants to buy us drinks then let him!" Porthos slapped the man on the back, almost knocking him over, "Thank you!" Dufort grinned and took a seat at the table, calling over a barmaid. Athos glared at Porthos. He didn't like drinking with people he did not like and he never did like Dufort. There's a reason why the man is only ever a messenger.

He was about to get up and leave when four Red Guards walked into the Tavern. It would have been fine. The Musketeers have learned to ignore the Red Guards when they were around but something on the belt of one of the guards turned Athos's eyes red. "Athos, what's wrong?" Aramis asked just as Athos stood and launched himself at the guard. "Athos!" The raging man had the guard on his back in seconds. His three companions only just managed to recover from their shock and were about to attack Athos when three guns were pointed at them. One from Aramis, two from Porthos. Durfort had sneaked out the back door. That's why Athos never liked him. The man was almost useless in a fight and he knew it.

"You'll have a hole in your head before you can even reach for your gun." Aramis warned before looking down at Athos who was holding a gun at the Red Guard Captain's head. "Athos, I don't like the Captain either but shooting him will not make him any more likeable."

Porthos snorted, "Speak for yourself."

"Porthos, you are not helping." Aramis glared at the man. Porthos just shrugged.

"Tell me where you got this gun or its bullet is going to end up in your skull!" Athos growled at the Captain.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It's mine."

Athos sneered at him, "Aramis. Ask the idiots what their Captain's full name is."

Aramis looked at the men and raised his eyebrows. "Jacque Bissette."

"Pfff…" Porthos scoffed, "Sissy name."

"Why do you want to know, Athos?"

"Because none of those names start with the letters C or D! But I know someone that does!" He held the Captain down by the neck, almost choking him as he showed Aramis and Porthos the initials on the butt of the gun. C. D. Charles D'Artagnan. Aramis's eyes glowed as red as Athos's now. He turned to the guards and stepped closer, nudging them with his gun. "Tell us where you got this and I may let you walk out of here." His tone was cold and deadly, sending shivers down their spines.

"We found it!" The Captain said through his restricted vocal chords.

Athos slowly placed the tip of the gun flat again the man's forehead, "Where?" His breath was icy.

"About three hours ride, north of here." He knew he couldn't lie. They would know the whereabouts of D'Artagnan.

"If he's dead, so are you." Athos let the man go and stormed out of the tavern.

"That goes for all of you." Porthos and Aramis followed Athos out.

They didn't say a word to each other as they grabbed the supplies they needed and rode out. They only had a few hours of daylight left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

D'Artagnan stared up into the tree, shivering from the cold, damp forest floor. He had tried for hours trying to get the trap off, sending himself to the edge of unconsciousness each time. He knew that every time he tried, he did more damage to his leg. He could feel the teeth digging into his skin, making any movement painful. After he had stopped trying, thoughts of dying out here plagued his mind. He didn't want to die out here alone. He had always imagined dying on the battlefield for his King and country. As the thoughts of dying almost drove him crazy he made himself stop and thought about the happy times. The day he was commissioned was the first that came to mind. Athos, his best friend and mentor had honoured him by strapping on the pauldron. It was the proudest moment of his life. He thought about their adventures and the fun they had training and joking. Porthos with his ill-conceived notions of women. Aramis, the complete opposite, with his total respect for the female species and Athos, with his honour, valour and deserved respect. They were his family and thinking about his family made him realise something. He won't be dying out here alone. He won't be dying at all because if he knew his friends, and he did, they will find him. He just needed to hold on until then. He smiled. He knew, without a doubt, his friends will save him.

* * *

Athos cursed as they looked for D'Artagnan's tracks. The rain from the night before had washed away any signs of tracks. It meant, not only that it was made more difficult to find their friend, but D'Artagnan had spent the night in the cold. They were looking for a couple of hours before something caught Aramis's eyes. He held up his hand to the others. "Wait." He dismounted and looked around for something. He picked up a thick branch, then poked at something in the ground. Snap! Aramis clenched his jaw as he lifted up the trap clamped around the branch. "Bear trap."

"Someone set traps along the path D'Artagnan would take." Athos glared at the trap and dismounted. "We walk from here. We can't risk the horse stepping in one of them." He picked up a thick branch. The others did the same. "Single file. Keep your steed behind you." Athos wanted to scream and curse, but he knew he had to keep a level head if they were to find D'Artagnan by nightfall. The traps will slow them down, a lot, but they couldn't afford to fall in one of them.

As they walked, they found three more traps. "These weren't here when we set this path for D'Artagnan." Porthos growled, "Someone knew about our plan and set them. They were out for D'Artagnan!"

Aramis nodded, walking behind Porthos. "And I have a feeling who, though I can't prove it right now."

Athos continued sweeping the area in front of them. "We find D'Artagnan and then we find who is responsible." Athos called back to them. They silently agreed.

* * *

D'Artagnan was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming because of all the fog. It's always foggy in dreams. Another give away was his father. Dead people liked to appear in dreams as well. "Father!" D'Artagnan ran towards the man, but stopped when his father called out to him.

"No, D'Artagnan. Do not come any closer." His father said.

"Why not?" He missed his father. He wanted to show him his uniform. His pauldron. He wanted his father to be proud.

"Oh, D'Artagnan! I have always been proud of you." Alexander smiled at his son, reading his mind.

D'Artagnan showed him his shoulder guard, "This is for you." A tear rolled down his cheek.

"I was there when the King commissioned you, D'Artagnan. I was there and I was so proud, but do you know what else I saw?" Alexander asked his son.

"What?" D'Artagnan whispered past the lump in his throat. This dream is feeling more real.

"I saw the looks on your friends' faces and I knew, I didn't have to watch over you anymore because your friends will." D'Artagnan smiled and nodded. Alexander's smiled faded, "That's why you can't come any closer. Your friends are so close, you have to wait for them."

"What are you talking about, Father? Of course I'll wait for them. This is just a dream."

Alexander shook his head, "You're sicker than you think. You are on the edge of your world and mine."

"Are you telling me, I'm dying?" Alexander nodded, "But I can't. My friends can't find me like that. They'll never forgive themselves!"

Alexander smiled, know his son will do everything to stay alive, "Then fight, D'Artagnan. Fight!" With that he faded away.

"Father? Father!"

* * *

Athos was losing hope of finding D'Artagnan before sun set when he saw him, lying on the ground. No movement. "D'Artagnan!" He dropped the branch and the lead and ran to his friend, completely forgetting about any traps. Porthos grabbed Athos's horse's reign and carefully, lead them over to a tree. His movement completely belied the urgency he felt to be near his friend. Aramis had followed him and handed his reign over before running and dropping beside D'Artagnan.

"D'Artagnan." Athos was tapping the boy's pale face. "D'Artagnan wake up."

While Athos tried to wake the young man, he checked him over. He put a hand on his forehead. Fever. It could be from infection or from the cold last night…or both. On top of that, even though he was unconscious, Aramis could feel tremors through his body. He removed his jacket and laid it over D'Artagnan. "He's barely breathing."

* * *

"D'Artagnan! D'Artagnan, wake up!"

"Athos?" D'Artagnan looked around. His father was gone, but now he could hear Athos. "Athos, where are you?"

"He's barely breathing!" Aramis.

"Aramis!" D'Artagnan looked around desperately. "I have to wake up. I have to wake up. I HAVE TO WAKE UP!"

* * *

D'Artgnan tried to open his eyes, but it felt like they were made of lead. "He's waking up." Athos said in relief.

Aramis smiled, "His breathing is getting stronger as well." He didn't know what just happened. Just a minute ago it looked as though they were too late, but now he's not only breathing better but he's waking up as well. It was almost a miracle. "Come on, D'Artagnan. Open your eyes." Aramis pulled out the cork from his water skin with his teeth and gently lifted D'Artagnan's head off the ground. He pressed it to his lip. Athos smiled when the water seemed to draw D'Artagnan closer to consciousness.

"That's it, D'Artagnan. Open your eyes."

Porthos, who had finished tying the horses, had walked over. His attention from drawn to the contraption around D'Artagnan's right leg. He tried to swallow his anger as he knelt down beside it. While the others were working on waking D'Artagnan, he focused on a way of getting the trap off the boy.

D'Artagnan opened his eyes, finally but everything was blurry. There were two men leaning over him. "Who…" A hand was on his cheek, turning his head towards him.

"D'Artagnan, it's Athos." Athos spoke softly and gently.

"Athos?" D'Artagnan frowned, then closed his eyes tight. When he opened again, his vision came into focus. Athos and Aramis were with him. He smiled, "I knew you would come." Then closed his eyes again.

"D'Artagnan, stay awake." Aramis pleaded as he tipped the water to his lips again. D'Artagnan started drinking greedily, groaning when it was pulled away. "I'll give you more soon. I don't want you getting sick."

D'Artagnan opened his eyes again. "Get it off me, please." His voice was barely above a whisper, but they could hear the desperation in it. Athos looked down at the trap and Porthos.

"Can you get it off?" Athos asked him.

Porthos nodded, gravely, "It'll hurt. It's been on him a long time. The teeth are deep in there."

"Just get it off!" D'Artagnan grilled out.

Aramis put a hand on D'Artagnan's shoulder, "We will." Then looked at Porthos, "What do you need us to do?"

Porthos took a breath as he looked at the trap, then looked back up at his friends. It's not often Aramis sees Porthos so serious. "Sit him up and hold him. He's going to fight." Aramis looked at Athos and nodded for him to do it. Together they sat D'Artagnan up, then Athos got behind him and reach around, taking D'Artagnan's wrists in his hands. He wrapped his arms around his chest, bringing D'Artagnan's arms to cross over as well, effectively restraining the man. Aramis readjust his jacket, hoping to give D'Artagnan as much warmth as he could.

D'Artagnan's first instinct was to struggle against the hold but Athos whispered in his ear, "Settle. You're safe." Athos felt D'Artagnan relax against him. He nodded to Porthos to continue.

Porthos looked over to Aramis. "Help me adjust his leg. I need the trap flat against the ground." In order to release D'Artagnan's leg, Porthos needed to press down on the two levers on the side. If the trap wasn't flat against the ground, pressing on the levers would cause even more damage to D'Artagnan. Aramis lifted D'Artagnan's leg, bending it at the knee, as Porthos took the weight of the trap. They were gentle but D'Artagnan still cried out in pain. They ignored him as they knew Athos would take care of D'Artagnan's side of things. It was their job to get the trap off. With the trap flat again the forest floor, they were ready for the most painful part. "Get ready to pull his leg out." Porthos ordered Aramis. Aramis nodded. "On three." Athos's grip tightened as Porthos started counting. "One…" D'Artagnan closed his eyes, preparing for the pain, "Two…" Aramis kissed the cross the Queen gave him, "THREE!" Porthos pressed down on the lever. So many thing happened at once. The sound of the teeth pulling out of D'Artagnan's flesh was sickening. D'Artagnan threw his head back against Athos's shoulder and screamed. Aramis pulled D'Artagnan leg's from the jaws of the trap. Athos's knuckles went white as he held D'Artagnan with all he had. Porthos let the trap go with a 'clang' before throwing it as far as he could. Aramis pressed down on both D'Artagnan's legs as he continued struggling. Then, mercifully, the boy gave in to unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

There was only silence. Porthos knelt down on the opposite side of Aramis and put on hand D'Artagnan's good leg. He's seen plenty of soldiers scream and cry in pain but for some reason this hit him harder than the others. Maybe it was because D'Artagnan was so young, maybe it was because he knew D'Artagnan had been left here to suffer for a day or maybe it was just because this boy meant a lot to him.

Aramis couldn't take his eyes off of Athos, with his arms around D'Artagnan. He hadn't loosened his hold. His eyes were distant, as if he had to transported his mind to another place in order to get through the ordeal. He looked at Porthos and tilted his head towards Athos, silently telling him to deal with him. It was Aramis's turn to get to work. He got up and went over to his horse and untying the supplies he had brought with him. While Porthos and Athos had been prepared for a small war, Aramis had brought his medical supplies. He was glad he did, because it was dark now and finding the herbs he needed at this time would be next to impossible.

Porthos put a cautious hand on Athos's shoulder. The man was wound up so tight, he was worried a slight movement would cause him to shoot someone. "It's over, Athos. The trap is gone. D'Artagnan's passed out."

Athos had blocked his mind from D'Artagnan's screams. He was picturing the death of the men who did this. He wanted them dead. He wanted them to suffer, just as D'Artagnan had. He didn't feel Porthos's hand on his shoulder, but the mention of D'Artagnan's name did bring him back to the present. "What?" He asked.

"You can let him go now. He's passed out." Porthos told him, softly. Athos nodded, and tried to relax. His shoulders, arms, hands and fingers where all stiff from the strain it had been under. It took a lot of mental effort to will his fingers open. Porthos pushed down Aramis's jacket and help Athos to remove his arms from around D'Artagnan and supported D'Artagnan around the shoulders so that Athos could get out from behind him. Athos winced as he stood and tried to shake off what he'd just been doing. He watched as Porthos lowered D'Artagnan onto the ground, then took his jacket off. He folded it up and placed it under D'Artagnan's head.

"Athos, start a fire." Aramis ordered as he knelt near D'Artagnan's injured leg. He had unsaddled his horse and used it as a leg rest for D'Artagnan. "I need to get his boot off. I'll be quick." He prayed D'Artagnan stayed unconscious until he was done. He pulled the mouth of boot wide, hoping to slip it off easily. He sighed in relief when the boot came off without too much resistance. He gently laid the leg back on the saddle and pulled out a dagger, cutting up the hems of D'Artagnan's breeches so he could pull it away from the skin. He winced at the damage there. It was clear to him that D'Artagnan hadn't laid here passively for someone to save him. He tried to get the trap off, hence the tearing of the skin. Aramis opened a bottle medicinal alcohol and poured it over the wound. He stopped when D'Artagnan flinched.

Athos, who had just got the fire started, was at his side immediately when D'Artagnan tossed his head and furrowed his brow at the pain caused by the alcohol, but it wasn't enough to wake him completely. Athos placed a cool hand on his brow. "He's burning up." But even as he said it, he smiled as D'Artagnan calmed at his touch.

Aramis smiled and shook his head at the effect Athos had on the young man, even unconscious. He should've trusted Athos's bad feeling. These two had a special bond. He continued pouring the alcohol and wiping away the blood and dirt to get a good look at the puncture wounds. "He's lucky the teeth weren't too big or sharp, otherwise he could've lost his leg." The punctures weren't too deep but they have been left untreated for too long, which is probably the cause of the fever. He needed to work fast to draw out the infection. He pulled out a leather package, unwrapping it to reveal an assortment of herbs. Looking around he found a piece of thick, hard bark. It wasn't ideal, but he needed something to grind the herbs on. He placed the herbs on the bark and poured water on it. Using the hilt of his dagger he grinded the herbs until it became a thick, dark green paste.

Athos and Porthos decided to move D'Artagnan closer to the fire when they noticed his tremors growing. Porthos frowned when he had lift D'Artagnan from under the arms and felt the cold, damp jacket. "He's clothes are wet. Probably from the rain last night. Whose idea was it to send him on survival training?"

"Yours!" He jumped as Aramis and Athos called out together.

"Well, you shouldn't've agreed." Porthos sulked as they removed D'Artagnan's pauldron and jacket before covering him back up with Aramis's. "Why isn't he waking up? He's been unconscious for a while now."

"Because he has a fever, in pain and exhausted from trying to get the trap off. Not to mention, did any of you notice the dead wolf over by the trees?" Their focus had been completely on D'Artagnan. Aramis only saw the wolf when he went to get his supplies from the saddle.

"He had to fight off a wolf while trapped like an animal. I find out those Red Guards are behind this and they're dead!" Porthos was livid at best.

"Focus on getting him home, then focus on getting him justice." Aramis advised his ill-tempered friend. He threw Athos a small cloth, "Wet it and tend to his fever." Athos caught the cloth and took out his water skin to wet it, wiping across D'Artagnan's brow and around his neck. He smiled when D'Artagnan let out a small sigh of relief.

Porthos nudged his chin at the paste Aramis was spreading on D'Artagnan's leg, "What's that?"

"A poultice to draw out the infection. He needs it to last the night. If we didn't find him today, we would've been looking for a corpse tomorrow." Aramis told them, letting them know how close they were to losing their young friend. "At first light, I'm going deeper into the woods to find more herbs. I'll need to make another one for the trip back. It's going to take twice as long to get back in his condition and I'm not letting infection get him before we do." He wrapped the bandage around the poultice to keep in the herbs and maximise the medicinal purpose.

"Is he going to make it?" Athos asked, softly without looking up from the boy. He laid the cloth across D'Artagnan's brow, his hand remained on it, not willing to break contact. It scared him to know they were almost too late.

"Come on, Athos." Porthos scoffed, "You talk like you don't know the boy. He's a fighter. Proved it when he walked into the garrison that first day…literally. He's not going to let a little leg wound take him out."

Aramis was agreeing with everything Porthos was saying until the last part. "Porthos, I know you're a big man, so everything looks little to you, but this wound is not 'little' in any way."

"SSSHHH…" Porthos glared at Aramis, nudging his head at Athos.

Aramis rolled his eyes, "Athos is not a two year old. He can see for himself. And yes, Athos, I do believe he will make it. He made it through last night without us. I, sure as hell, am not letting him die while I'm around."

Athos continued watching the unconscious man next to him. _I knew you would come. _Athos frowned. He didn't know where that voice in his head came from. It sounded like D'Artagnan. Then he recalled. They were the first words D'Artagnan had said to him when he was finally aware his friends had arrived. Aramis was right, D'Artagnan fought hard to stay alive for them because he believed in them. The least Athos could do was have faith that D'Artagnan would keep holding on. He looked up at Aramis and nodded. Aramis narrowed his eyes curiously. He could almost see the change wash over his friend. He didn't know what just happened, but he's glad it did.

"Mmm…" The three men jumped at the sound coming from the injured man. His brow furrowed and Aramis could see his eyes moving under his eyelids.

"D'Artagnan." Athos took the towel off him and wet it again. He wiped around the neck, hoping the cool water would entice him to wake up.

"Come on, boy. Wake up so we know you're okay." Porthos urged from the other side of him.

"Give him some time." Aramis asked them to be patient even though he really wanted to see D'Artagnan awake as well.

They all smiled in relief when D'Artagnan finally opened his eyes. "Hey, how are you feeling?" Porthos asked for all of them.

D'Artagnan swallowed as he thought about the question. How was he supposed to answer that question? "Like a…rabid dog…took a liking to my…leg." They grinned. They were glad to hear D'Artagnan could still joke. "Can I…have…some water?"

"Of course." Aramis replied, he nodded to Athos, "Just sips for now."

Athos lifted D'Artagnan's head and pressed the water skin to his lips. Athos gave him a few good sips before taking it away. "Thanks."

"You've manage to get yourself into a fine mess here." Athos smiled at him.

"You sent me on a route with bear traps." D'Artagnan grinned, sleepily. They laughed at the young man's expression. "How's my leg?"

"For now, it's fine." Aramis answered, "I'm drawing out the infection."

"Feels like its burning." D'Artagnan complained.

Athos and Porthos looked at Aramis worried. He waved away their concern. "Means the poultice is working."

Athos was starting to relax now that D'Artagnan seemed to be more aware, which allowed him to think of other things. "D'Artagnan, do you know who did this?"

D'Artagnan grinned cheekily at him, it was almost like he was drunk. "You did."

Athos rolled his eyes, "I'm serious."

D'Artagnan smile faded, "They left me here to die like a wounded animal…alone."

It was a cold night but the temperature dropped another degree at D'Artagnan's words. "Who?" Athos had to force the small word past his clenched jaw.

"The Red Guards." D'Artagnan's voice was filled with malice. "They took my pistol and my sword." Athos pulled out the pistol and held it in D'Artagnan's line of sight. D'Artagnan reached up for it. "Been feeling naked without it." He laid it down at his side, feeling the security of it pressed against him. "Don't suppose you have my sword or dagger." Athos shook his head. "How about the…" D'Artagnan looked away a little embarrassed, he wasn't sure why?"

"The what?" Aramis asked, "What else did they take?"

"The pauldron." D'Artagnan said softly.

Athos frowned. He looked over at Porthos who picked up the pauldron they had taken off D'Artagnan when they removed his jacket. "It's right here."

D'Artagnan looked over at it. "Not that one."

"Then which…" Athos stopped, then looked at Aramis, a little sceptical about what he was thinking, "The one at the target point?" D'Artagnan nodded. "You didn't make it there." D'Artagnan shook his head. Porthos shot up from his place next to D'Artagnan when the meaning of what was just said became clear. He paced around their campsite. There could only be one reason as to how the Red Guards got to the finish point before D'Artagnan. They had a map and the only way they could have a map is if there was a traitor amongst the Musketeers!

"I find out who it is and I swear, I am going to stick his neck in one of those traps!" Porthos growled.

"D'Artagnan." Aramis drew the boy's attention from Porthos's rage, "Close your eyes and go to sleep. You're exhausted. We'll worry about getting the Red Guards responsible after we get you home."

Athos was just as angry as Porthos, but Aramis was right, getting D'Artagnan home was their priority. He placed the back of his hand against D'Artagnan's brow. "Your fever is still very high. Rest. We'll take care of everything." He waited as D'Artagnan's eyes slowly closed, then turned to the other two, "Those Red Guards are mine."

"There's plenty to go around." The iciness in Aramis's voice matched Athos's.

"Damn right there is!" Porthos kept pacing as he continuously slammed his fist into his hand, "But the traitor is mine!"

Nobody took on the Musketeers and lived to tell the tale.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

They took turns keeping watch and watching over D'Artagnan, but they got little sleep when D'Artagnan's fever started rising. Aramis checked the wound and saw that the poultice was doing its job which meant the fever was from something else. Aramis leaned over D'Artagnan's chest and placed his ear against it. There was a small rattling. Aramis sighed, "A night out in the rain did him no favours. I'm afraid he's ill."

Athos rubbed his face with his hand, "Can this training mission get any worse?"

"Every time someone says something like that, it usually does!" Porthos growled at him, readying his pistol as if sure something was going to come out of the trees.

"There's not much I can do about a cold until we get him back. For now, we can only keep him warm." Aramis threw more wood into the fire. Athos took off his own jacket and laid it over Aramis's one. "I'll feel better when he's home and then we're never sending that boy out on his own again. No amount of survival training will help him survive. He attracts trouble!"

Athos laughed. Aramis rarely lost his calm, so it was quite a sight when he did. However, he had to agree with Aramis. D'Artagnan did attract trouble, so the best way to keep him alive was to keep him with one of them. At least then, he would have someone watching his back.

* * *

As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Aramis headed out the find the herbs he needed to make another poultice. Porthos got their horses ready for travel, but left the saddle that was keeping D'Artagnan's leg elevated. Athos kept the fire going for D'Artagnan's sake. He was pleased when D'Artagnan started stirring, but it was followed by nasty coughing. Athos gently sat him up, to help ease it. D'Artagnan relaxed against his friend when the coughing stopped. "I don't feel too good." He whispered, too sick and in pain to feel embarrassed about admitting it. Athos scoffed at the understatement of the day.

"We're heading back as soon as Aramis returns." Athos lowered D'Artagnan back to the ground.

Aramis found the herbs he needed rather quickly and was heading back to the campsite. He paused when he neared the camp, frowning. Something was wrong. The area was too quiet. Not even the sound of birds. Quietly, he moved behind a tree and scanned the surrounding. They were well hidden, but Aramis had keen eyes. "One…" He whispered, "two…three…four." Four men in the trees and Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan, completely unaware. That can be fixed. Careful to stay hidden, he cupped his hands and brought them to his mouth.

Athos was in the process of giving D'Artagnan some more water when a familiar sound made him pause. _Coo…coo…coo…coo…_ D'Artagnan frowned at Athos's expression. "What's wrong?" He asked the older man. If D'Artagnan was in his right mind, he would have recognised the sound. _Coo coo… coo…coo…_ Four men, two to their right. Athos looked over at Porthos, whose movements were so casual and relaxed, one would've thought he was oblivious to his surroundings. Porthos subtlely pat his pistol and moved into the area he needed to. _Cooooo…_coo… One to his left. He didn't need to know where the fourth one is, because he knew Aramis would have that one in his sights. Now that they knew the men's position, Athos and Porthos could easily spot them. They waited for Aramis to make his move.

D'Artagnan could tell by Athos and Porthos movements that something was about to happen. He pushed himself up to his elbow. Athos looked at him and smiled, giving him a small shake of the head to tell him to leave it to them. D'Artagnan closed his eyes, and laid back down. He trusted them, but he put a hand on his pistol, just in case. He couldn't help flinching at the first shot that rang out.

Aramis had already taken out his target. Two successive shots followed. Porthos took out two of them. And the last shot was taken by Athos, but not before a grenade came rolling down the slope. Athos was closest to the bomb. He ran up to it while Porthos ran to D'Artagnan. He dived on top of D'Artagnan, covering him with his body, his hands bringing D'Artagnan's head to his chest.

Athos, using the butt of his pistol, swung as hard as he could at the bomb, before diving back in the opposite direction, covering his head. Aramis watched from a safe distance as this happened. He covered his ears as the bomb went off. The bomb had gone off in the air. Branches and leaves started falling. Aramis couldn't wait for the dust to settle, he needed to make sure his friends were okay. He grinned as he heard coughing as he got closer. "Everyone alive?"

"Yeah…" Athos coughed and waved away the dust.

D'Artagnan who was still under the Porthos's protection started coughing from all the dust and the congestion in his lungs. "Are you okay?" Porthos asked as he got off his friend and lifted him into a sitting position, keeping a support arm around his shoulder. D'Artagnan nodded, still coughing. Porthos grabbed the water skin Athos had left on the ground and gave some to D'Artagnan.

Seeing D'Artagnan in good hands, Aramis walked over to Athos who was examining the body of the man he shot. He showed Aramis the tattoo on his arm. "Mercenaries."

Aramis shook his head, "Red Guards couldn't do their own dirty work."

They returned to their friends. "How is he?"

"Sick and miserable." Porthos told them. The fact that D'Artagnan was content to lay there in Porthos's arm was testament to that. He couldn't even be bothered putting up an "I'm fine" act. "Who were they?" Porthos asked as the men they had just killed.

"Mercenaries." Athos told them.

"Once I've made up the paste and prepared D'Artagnan for travelling we can head back. Get everything prepare. He's not staying here a minute longer than we need to." Porthos nodded as Aramis started preparing the poultice. He was about to lay D'Artagnan back down when the boy groaned in complaint. Porthos frowned as D'Artagnan tried to get closer to him. "He's cold. There's no point starting the fire again." Aramis explained. "Stay with him. Keep him warm. I'm sure Athos can handle readying the horses on his own." Athos took one look at D'Artagnan before he nodded and finished off the job Porthos was doing before they were attacked. Porthos started rubbing his hands up and down D'Artagnan's arm. He didn't like sitting and doing nothing, but knowing he was helping D'Artagnan was enough.

Athos threw D'Artagnan's jacket at him. "Get him into it."

Porthos nodded and slipped one arm in the sleeve before adjusting D'Artagnan to slip the other sleeve on.

Aramis made quick work of the poultice. He moved over to D'Artagnan's leg, looking at D'Artagnan as he lifted it from the saddle. D'Artagnan groaned in pain. Porthos could feel the man's grip on his shirt, pulling at it as the pain got worse. Aramis tried to ignore the sound and unwrapped the bandage. He used alcohol again to wipe of the old poultice which caused more pain. Aramis had to hold D'Artagnan's leg in place with one hand to stop the boy from pulling it away. "I'm sorry, D'Artagnan, but I need you to keep still." Athos came over then, already finished with his task and knelt down to hold D'Artagnan's leg still. Aramis nodded his thanks and continued. "The wound is looking better than it did." He told them, "It means we've got the infection under control." He didn't tell them that D'Artagnan could've lost his leg if the poultice hadn't worked. Aramis spread the new poultice over the wounds and wrapped the leg back up. This time he wrapped it tight and added an extra bandage to ensure D'Artagnan's leg would remain stable for the ride. Lastly, he took out a bottle of laudanum. "This should keep him asleep until we get back."

"You had that and didn't give it to him last night." Athos asked, a little annoyed that Aramis had allowed D'Artagnan to be in pain when he could've done something about it.

"I only have enough for the trip back. He'll need it more today, while he's on the move." Aramis explained, which made sense. Athos nodded, accepting the explanation.

Aramis knelt next to D'Artagnan and poured out a capful of the liquid. "D'Artagnan, drink this." D'Artagnan opened his eyes and looked at him groggily. Aramis pressed the lid to his lips and smiled when D'Artagnan opened his mouth and swallowed.

"We're going to have to move him between us so the horses do not get over worked." Athos told them as soon as he noticed D'Artagnan succumbing to the drug. "I'll ride with D'Artagnan first. We'll swap horses every hour." They nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

By the time they arrived at the garrison, D'Artagnan was unconscious and burning with fever. The stable men took hold of their horses. D'Artagnan was riding with Aramis. "Get him down and into the infirmary." Four Musketeers came up to him and helped him slide D'Artagnan off the horse. "Be careful of his leg."

Treville came out onto the balcony when he heard the return of his best musketeers. "What happened?" He called out, seeing D'Artagnan being carried up the steps.

"Red Guards happened!" Athos growled up to him, then when he got closer. "They will pay for this! Either you hold them accountable or else I will take justice into my own hands." With that he left the Captain to think about how he would go about this situation.

"They set traps and left him for dead, Captain." Porthos told him in a softer tone than Athos. "Someone has to pay for this." Then he moved in closer and whispered, "They knew about the training mission and the route to the destination."

Treville had to take deep breaths to calm himself after that revelation. Someone had betrayed D'Artagnan and he will find out who! He nodded to Porthos then returned to his office.

* * *

Aramis walked into the infirmary and took off his jacket. "Thank you. Now everyone get out." He ordered as he washed his hands in the basin. He wiped his hands on a towel as he looked down at D'Artagnan's leg. Throwing the towel aside, he began unwrapping the bandages.

Athos and Porthos closed the door behind the Musketeers and stood around the table where D'Artagnan laid. The riding had taken a toll on the young man. Sweat beaded along his brow, evidence of the fever that was raging through his body. "If you want to do something, get some cold water to cool him down and get him out of his clothes and into dry ones. The dampness will do nothing for his illness." Aramis ordered without looking up. Porthos left to get fresh clothes from D'Artagnan's room while Athos got a bowl of water and a towel.

"Damn it!" Aramis cursed as he went over to the drawers and returned with a small blade. "The infection got worse on the way back. It's not bad, but I need to drain the wound to ensure it is gone completely." Aramis explained, he held the knife over the puncture wounds, then looked at Athos. "Hold his leg." Athos nodded and put his weight on D'Artagnan's lower and upper leg. He winced as Aramis made the incision. He felt D'Artagnan tense under his hands and looked over the boy. He was tossing, he expression screwed up in pain. He started fighting Athos's hold. Aramis pressed the side of the incision he made to force out the blood and infection along with it. D'Artagnan cried out!

Porthos was on his way back with D'Artagnan's clothes when he heard the scream. He barged through the door. "What the hell are you doing to him?" He asked, when he saw his friends holding D'Artagnan down. He ran over and held the boy to the table by his shoulders. "What's going on?" D'Artagnan's strength was ebbing.

Aramis sighed in relief when the blood coming out was no longer mixed with pus. "Okay, the infection is clear for now." He gently felt around the ankle. "His lucky. His boots provided enough cushioning to prevent breaking his bones, but the muscles are badly damaged. It'll be a couple of weeks before he can put weight on it." He wrapped the leg back up. Athos moved back as Aramis moved to talk to D'Artagnan. "D'Artagnan, can you hear me?" D'Artagnan's eyes were open but they were glazed over with fever. "You're back and you'll be fine. Do you understand?" The only answered he received was a coughing fit. Aramis winced at the rattling in he could hear in D'Artagnan's chest. "Okay, get him into fresh clothes and into the bed." Aramis opened the door and called out to whoever was out there. "I need a pot of hot water. Now!" Then closed the door. The Musketeers were all used to Aramis by now. When he was tending to the ill, he had little patience and next to no manners. He grabbed a couple of herbs and rubbed them between his hands over a small wooden bowl. Then went over to the bed with a jar, where Athos was about to slip D'Artagnan's shirt on. "Wait." He said and gestured for Porthos to move aside. He scooped out a large amount of the ointment in the jar and spread it over D'Artagnan's chest. Porthos and Athos rose their eyebrows at each other. There was a joke here somewhere but the atmosphere didn't quite let it surface. "This will help with the congestion in his chest." He explained then nodded for Athos to put the shirt on. "Keep him elevated. It'll help him breathe easier." A musketeer walked in with a kettle of boiling water. "About time." Aramis complained, "Set it on the table."

The Musketeer did as he muttered under his breath, "Boiling water takes time." Then left the room. Aramis looked at Athos and Porthos, incredulously, not understanding the bad manners by his colleague. Athos and Porthos just laughed. Aramis did not see himself as ill-mannered at these times. He poured the hot water over the herbs in the bowl and set it on the side table next to D'Artagnan's bed, allowing it to settle and cool. "You two should rest." Aramis told them, "I'll keep an eye on him tonight."

"You need your rest as well." Porthos pointed out as he pulled a chair over for him.

"Thanks." He dropped to the chair. "I'll sleep tomorrow. For now I need to make sure there are no complications."

"I'm staying as well. I'll take one of the other bed. It's not like they're needed." Athos was not willing to leave D'Artagnan's side yet. He took off his shoes, jacket and belt and took the bed next to D'Artagnan's. Porthos shrugged. It's not like his room would be any more comfortable. He took the bed opposite Athos's and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Aramis started nodded off in the middle of the night. He was as exhausted as his friends, but each time one of his friends were injured or sick, he would take it as his personal mission to ensure they are well again. He's lost many friends over the years in battles and to sickness, and each time it hurt but he knew that if he were to lose any of the men in the room, he would not recover.

D'Artagnan felt like someone was sitting on his chest. He felt warm…too warm and the pain in his leg wouldn't let him sleep comfortably. He opened his eyes and looked around. Aramis, Athos and Porthos were all with him. He smiled when he realised he was home. Just like that all the pain and discomfort was gone. The nightmare of being alone on the forest floor was over. He wasn't very aware of what happened after his friends had found him, but he did remember feeling safe. Even through all the pain, he knew he would be alright. Even through the gun fire and bombing, he wasn't worried. His friends would protect him. Since his father passed, he never believed he would feel the warmth of family again, but it wasn't long before the Musketeers became family. Remembering his father brought a vague memory back. A dream. His father telling him to wait for his friends. Was it really just a dream? It seemed so vivid at the time but the images were beyond his grasp now. He tried to recall it when a cough started up through his chest. He tried to cover it by coughing into his arm but he couldn't control it.

Aramis's head shot up at the sound. "D'Artagnan." He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for D'Artagnan's cough to ease. "How are you feeling?"

D'Artagnan nodded, tired from the coughing alone. "I'm okay. Sorry to wake you."

Aramis just rolled his eyes, "I'm sitting here to watch over you and make sure you're okay. You're supposed to wake me."

"I'm home. I'll be fine." D'Artagnan narrowed his eyes at Aramis, "I think I look better than you."

Aramis chuckled, "You're delirious with fever. In no world or time will you ever look better than me."

"Will you go to sleep?" D'Artagnan was serious, "You're no good to anybody if you're dead on your feet."

Aramis reached over and felt D'Artagnan's brow, much to D'Artagnan's distaste. He laughed at the look D'Artagnan gave him. "You're still very warm."

"As much as I like to believe I'm invincible sometimes, I can't recover as fast as any of you would like. Are you going to stay awake until I'm up and about, because that may take a while?"

Aramis nodded, knowing D'Artagnan made sense. "You're smarter when you're sick." He laughed at the confused look D'Artagnan had. He was obviously trying to work out if the comment was a compliment or not. "Don't think too hard." He pat D'Artagnan's leg and stood, stretching. "I'll go to sleep in a bed on one condition."

"What?" D'Artagnan asked, suspicious.

"Wake me if you feel anything wrong and I mean anything."

D'Artagnan grinned, "My back's itchy." Aramis narrowed his eyes at him, then turned around. As soon as his back was turned, he grinned to himself. "Good night, Aramis."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

**One week later…**

D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers sat at their usual table at the tavern. They were celebrating D'Artagnan's release from the infirmary. Looking at D'Artagnan at the table, one would think he was in perfect health if not for the crutches he had at his side. The cold and the infection cleared within three days but his leg will take another week or so. D'Artagnan was just glad his leg wasn't broken. He could stand the thought of being out of commission for over three weeks. "Here's to D'Artagnan's first day out of the Garrison!" Porthos cheered.

"I'll drink to that!" D'Artagnan relished his first taste of wine in a week. "I miss this."

"This would be sweeter if we caught the men who did this to you." Athos growled. He still remembered the Cardinal's words in front of the King.

"_The word of one Musketeer does not warrant a search of the entire Red Guard Regiment. If they find proof, I will allow it, but until then I will not submit my men to a search!"_

"_D'Artagnan is a witness!" Athos was sick and tired of the Cardinal abusing his power._ _"We found his gun on a Red Guard!"_

"_D'Artagnan is a Musketeer and we all know the hatred Musketeers have for the Red Guards. As for the gun. Captain Bissette tells me he found it and I believe him."_

"_Are you call D'Artagnan a liar?"_

"_I am just…"_

"_Enough!" The King ordered. The hall went silent, "Captain Treville, find me evidence and I will allow your search." Not another word could be said after that._

Athos's grip on his cup tightened and he remembered the Cardinal's smug look. "One day, that man will pay for his crimes."

"Athos, as much as I want to get the men who did this, there is not much we can do." D'Artagnan hated that his word had been dismissed so easily by the King but the Cardinal always did have a hold over the young King of France.

"If the Queen had not been ill, she would have spoken for you." They have all witnessed the Queen's wisdom.

D'Artagnan smiled at the warmth he felt from his friends. He was angry and he wanted justice but knowing his friends would move heaven and earth to find who did this was enough. "I believe in justice. The Red Guards will be punished for this. It'll just be later than we'd like."

Athos was proud of the young man. He had come so far since that day he called him out. He thinks before he acts now. _Head over heart_. That is what Athos had taught him and that is what D'Artagnan is doing right now. It's a shame Athos couldn't seem to take his own advice. He wanted the men dead and he didn't care how it happened.

A Musketeer walked into the tavern and walked over to them. "Captain Treville would like to see you now."

The four men looked at each other, then stood. Captain Treville would not summon them if it wasn't' urgent. Athos handed D'Artagnan his crutches while Aramis and Porthos cleared the way for him.

* * *

Athos, Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan entered Captain Treville's office and was a little surprised at seeing another Musketeer on his knees, in chains. "Dufort?" Athos frowned at the man. "Captain, what's going on?"

"I take a traitor in our ranks very seriously, no matter how small the betrayal may seem at the time. Dufort, here, is the man responsible for giving the map to the Red Guards." Treville revealed.

"YOU!" Porthos grabbed the man by the back collar and pulled him onto his back, drawing his pistol and aiming it at the man's head. Dufort cowered under the big man's anger.

"PORTHOS!" Treville called. "We need his confession to bring the Red Guards responsible to justice."

D'Artagnan looked down at the man on the floor. He knew him, though not very well. He thought he would be angry but he was just sad. He never believed a Musketeer would betray another. Athos grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him to his feet. "Why did you do it? D'Artagnan could've died!"

The fear in the man's eyes died a little and anger replaced it. "I have been in this regiment for years and I get sent on errands! Errands! That _boy,_" he spat, "is barely here for a day and you, Captain, send him to catch Vadim!"

"You're jealous?" D'Artagnan asked.

"I have been trying to get all of your attention for years! The Three Musketeers! I should've been the fourth. Not this inexperienced boy!"

Suddenly it clicked. "That's why you showed up at the Tavern and bought us drinks. You knew D'Artagnan was in trouble, possibly dead and you came over to take his place." Aramis shook his head, "You cannot replace a rodent in the streets of Paris, let alone, D'Artagnan's place amongst us."

"How did you know it was him?" Athos asked the Captain.

Captain Treville held up a pauldron. "Roche told me he saw Dufort snooping around your rooms the night before D'Artagnan's mission. I had his room checked and found this."

D'Artagnan's eyes brightened at the item in the Captain's hand. "May I?" He hopped over to the Captain.

"It's yours." Treville handed it over.

D'Artagnan took it in his hand, running his fingers over the words, laughing at them._ Non_ _Gloriam. Non Pecuniam. Non Amor. Honor!_ At the end of their mission to incriminate the Cardinal, they had laughed that they had no glory, no money, no love, but they did have honour. It was their own private joke. The words were engraved in the spot where the Musketeer moto should've been. Tears came to D'Artagnan's eyes, though he turned away and wiped them quickly.

"Dufort did wrong by you, D'Artagnan. Name his punishment." Treville told him.

D'Artagnan looked at the man who seemed to hate him so much. "I'm sorry you feel _betrayed_, but don't try to blame your shortcomings on me. You're a disgrace to this regiment." D'Artagnan shook his head, "The worst punishment I can think of his your dismissal. You're not worthy of the uniform you wear."

"No! No!" Dufort lunged at him, but D'Artagnan didn't even flinch because he knew with his three brothers around, Dufort would not be able to touch him. Porthos and Aramis restrained him by the arms. "You're the one not worthy of the uniform!" Athos step in front of him and swung his fist hard enough to take down Porthos and hence more than enough to take out Dufort.

Treville sighed. "I was hoping to get him to sign a confession first. He gave me the names of the four Red Guards that did this." He read the paper, "Captain Jacque Bissette."

Porthos nodded, "That's the man we found D'Artagnan's pistol on."

"Henry Savage, Jean Renaud and Thenardier Perret. I've checked and all four have been sent on a mission."

"Of course they have. My guess is they won't be back for a long time." Athos growled. Getting justice for D'Artagnan seemed to be further from their grasp, that is until a message from the palace arrived.

"Captain Treville, you have been summoned by the Queen, along with Athos, Aramis, D'Artagnan and Porthos."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: I write a story like this for all the fandoms I write in. I don't why. I just like it.**

**Warning: un-betaed. I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

The Cardinal stood to one side of the hall, facing the Royal couple, while Captain Treville and his Musketeers stood on the other side. Four Red Guards were kneeling on the floor, shivering in fear. The Queen gestured for two servants to come forwards. "D'Artagnan," the Queen called, but put her hand out, kindly, when D'Artagnan was about to move forward, "Please, you are injured. Remain where you are." D'Artagnan bowed in acknowledgement. "I believe these items belong to you." D'Artagnan looked at the sword, dagger and leather pouch presented to him. He smiled.

"Yes, Your Majesty. They are the items I had lost on my training mission."

The Queen smiled, "Then they are returned to you. As for the men responsible for your injuries." She glared at the men in front of her. "With permission from my King," She turned to smile at her husband, ensuring he received the credit. The King just admired her beauty. "I ordered a search of the entire Red Guard's Garrison. These items were found in Captain Bissette's room. My Lord sent men out to escort the Captain and his men, Henry Savage, Jean Renaud and Thenardier Perret, back to Paris." They were the names Treville had on his paper. "They will be sentenced to the Bastille until their trial."

D'Artagnan could almost feel his friend's shaking with anger. He knew they wanted their own form of justice. D'Artagnan stepped forward, knowing it wasn't right, considering he was not asked to speak, "Your Majesty. I have a request." Treville frowned while the others looked to each other, confused.

"Speak, D'Artagnan." King Louis spoke up for the first time.

"Thank you, your Majesty." D'Artagnan bowed his head, "As much as the Musketeer Regiment have proven time and time again, its…" D'Artagnan tried to feign not being able to find a good word, "_superiority," _He smiled at the Cardinal who was barely controlling his anger at the humiliation, "over the Red Guards." Athos, Aramis and Porthos couldn't help but grin. They stopped at the look Treville gave them. "I would request a chance to prove it once and for all." The King smiled. D'Artagnan knew the King would like this idea. "I propose a tournament between the men here and us."

"What is the wager?" The Cardinal asked through tight lips.

D'Artagnan smiled at him. "For anything with a conflict of jurisdiction, the Musketeer Regiment will always have priority." D'Artagnan knew he was crossing the line here. He did not consult the Captain about this, but they all knew the Cardinal had too much power. Taking this away from him would lessen any corruption. He looked at the Captain and received a nod of approval. He was silently relieved.

"That's absurd!" The Cardinal was turning red.

Captain Treville stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I'll admit the wager is unorthodox. However, it will ensure a smoother process rather than continuously bothering your Majesty for such petty disagreements."

King Louis thought about the proposal. He did like a good wager but should such as important decision be made with a wager. The Queen spoke up, "My Lord, if I may. I agree with Captain Treville. The disagreements between the Red Guards and the Musketeers have made situations more difficult than it should be. Giving either side," She was sure to try to sound non-biased, "priority will make matters easier." She had no doubt the Musketeers would win. She also had no doubt Captain Treville will not abuse that power, unlike the Cardinal.

"You are correct as usual my Queen. When shall we have this tournament?"

"We'll need time…" The Cardinal started.

"The Musketeers are ready right now, your Majesty." Athos interrupted. He did not want to give the Cardinal any chance to cheat. He gave the Cardinal's glare a tight smile.

"Surely the men should be given time to prepare." The Cardinal argued.

The King looked like he was going to give in to the Cardinal's request. "Your Majesty." D'Artagnan spoke, "If I may. I was advised by my colleagues," He gestured to his three friends, "that as Musketeers we must be prepared for anything because not all situations allow the luxury of preparation. That is what my training mission was about when these men so rudely interrupted. I believe all soldiers, not just Musketeers, should be ready for anything. After all," D'Artagnan bowed, "How are we supposed to protect our King and Queen if we are not."

King Louis smiled, impressed with the young man in front of him, "Clearly, valour and loyalty are not your only qualities, D'Artagnan." He stepped forward and announced, "It is decided. The tournament will begin in the palace courtyard. Come, let us head over their now. Cardinal, please lead the way." The Cardinal bowed. There was no way for him to plan a thing. The Red Guards followed in their chains. They were smiling, thinking they could beat the Musketeers, easily.

"Well played, D'Artagnan." The Captain whispered as he walked passed him.

D'Artagnan's friends walked beside him, keeping pace. "You know," Athos spoke softly, "They would've been trialled and hanged for their crimes."

"Yes, but now we get to kill two birds with one stone. The Cardinal will no longer be able to manipulate our missions and I get justice." Then he shrugged, "Plus this is so much more fun!" D'Artagnan grinned at them.

"You also wanted to give us the chance to exact that justice." Aramis saw through it. D'Artagnan knew how much his friends wanted more than just a trial. "Remind me not to get on your bad side, D'Artagnan. That brain of yours is more calculating than I thought."

"You give me too much credit, Aramis," D'Artagnan claimed ignorance, "I really just wanted to have fun after being cooped up for so long. The three men just laughed as they walked onto the courtyard.

The King and Queen was seated under the pagoda. The Cardinal sat to the right of the King. An empty seat was placed on the left of the Queen. "D'Artagnan, I am not versed in sword play. Will you do me the pleasure of explaining during the duel?"

D'Artagnan was surprised at the request, then bowed, "I'd be honoured, your Majesty."

The King stood. "I enjoy seeing a battle. Four against four. How you fight, is your choice. You will be fighting as a team. This is not a fight to the death. As long as your opponent is down, then he is out. However, accidents happen and therefore no revenge shall be seeked by either side, no matter the outcome. Should the Red Guards win, they will be set free. We must after all give them an incentive to fight." He looked at D'Artagnan to get his reaction.

D'Artagnan smiled, "I agree to that. It does not matter, the Red Guards will lose."

The King chuckled, "Confidence in your Captain and friends. I like you more and more, D'Artagnan." D'Artagnan grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at the Cardinal, who was almost shaking with rage.

"A little humility, D'Artagnan, please." The Queen was trying to hide her smiled.

"Of course." D'Artagnan tried to look contrite but failed miserably.

Captain Treville, Athos, Porthos and Aramis stood in a line, facing Captain Bissette and his men. The Red Guards were grinning. They were going to play dirty, the Musketeers knew that but it didn't matter because they were a team. They've all fought together for years. A servant waved a flag and the battle began.

D'Artagnan sat forward, watching his friend's movements. He leaned over to the Queen, "Athos is a master at reading the opponent. You notice that he is always ready for the opponents attack." The Queen nodded, admiring the man's form, "Aramis likes to wait for the opponents attack and dodge. He is quick. If his opponent is big, they tend to stumble at his evasions." The Queen smiled as Aramis drew first blood, cutting the Red Guards arm as he stumbled past him. "Porthos is big and strong and he knows how to use it." The Queen laughed as Porthos knocked the sword from the man's grip and then hoisted him on his shoulder. Walking around like a man carrying his conquest. The Queen gasped when the Red Guard pulled out a dagger from his boot. He got no further than that though because Athos threw a dagger at man's back. Porthos dropped the dead body to the ground. "He was mine!" Porthos complained.

"You're welcome!" Athos called back, even as he parried every move his opponent made.

"That was amazing." The Queen got over her shock.

D'Artagnan smiled, then leaned forward and looked the Cardinal in the eye, at the same time getting the attention of the King and Queen. "The reason why the Musketeers will not lose is because they work together. They fight as one unit. The Red Guards are looking out for themselves." He glared at the Cardinal, then said in a low and deadly voice, "The Musketeers watch each other's backs. A foreign concept to you, Cardinal, I'm sure." He smiled then sat back again.

Athos was starting to look bored with his opponent. D'Artagnan laughed, "Athos, I'm getting hungry!"

Athos called over to him, as he continued his duel, "So! What am I to do about that? I don't cook!"

Aramis kicked the Red Guard's legs from under him and pointed his sword at his neck. "If you want to live, stay down. Otherwise, I'll put you out of you misery now." He stepped on the man's chest and looked at his colleagues. Porthos walked over to him and folded his arms.

"Captain, Athos took out my guy. Don't suppose you're will to give your guy to me. I'm bored."

D'Artagnan couldn't help but laugh at the banter. It was like they had forgotten that they were in front of the King and Queen. He looked over at them and realised they were enjoying this a little too much as well, much to the dismay of the Cardinal. After the Cardinal had confessed to trying to assassinate the Queen, his power over the King had diminished, but after today, it'll be next to non-existent.

Athos finally got sick of playing with his Red Guard and disarmed him with a simple flick of the wrist, then grabbing the man's wrist, he twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him to the ground. "Stay down!" He ordered, then stood back and waited for the two Captains to finish their duel. "Say the word, Captain Treville and I'll be happy to step in." Athos called out.

Captain Treville just rolled his eyes and kicked Captain Bissette between the legs. The courtyard went quiet in shock of what the Captain of the Musketeers just did. The only sound was the groaning of the Red Guard Captain on the grass. Treville sheathed his sword, then turned to the King and shrugged. "I didn't break any rules." Everyone but the Cardinal were trying to withhold their laughter.

The King cleared his throat and stood, but he was grinning. "I declare the Musketeer Regiment victorious." Then he mumbled to himself, "The fight was a little one-sided." Then more clearly, "I will have my secretary draw up a new contract. From now on, for any conflict of jurisdiction, the Musketeer Regiment will have priority." He turned to the soldiers standing around the courtyard. "Take the prisoners to their cells." D'Artagnan stood and hopped over to stand with the Musketeers. "Well fought, Musketeers. Captain Treville, you have formidable men under your command. Thank you for an entertaining day." He held his arm out to his Queen, who smiled and took it. The Musketeers remained until the King and Queen left.

The Cardinal was about to leave as well but was stopped by Captain Treville. "Cardinal." He stepped up to the man. There was a time he respected the man because he truly seemed to have France's best interest at heart, but he allowed his pride get in the way. "If something like this should happen to any of the King's Musketeers again, jurisdiction will be the least of your worries. Keep your Red Guards away from the Musketeers or else I will declare open season on them." The Cardinal's expression looked like he had eaten a lemon by mistake. He turned and stormed after the King. The Captain knew the Cardinal would not admit defeat so easily but for now, the Musketeers have won the battle.

Captain Treville walked back over to the Musketeers. He nodded to D'Artagnan. "I'm not sure if it was stupid or brave of you to make such a bold proposal to the King."

D'Artagnan shrugged, nonchalantly, "I'm sick of the Red Guards thinking they're above the law because of the Cardinal."

"He won't forget the humiliation." Treville warned.

D'Artagnan smiled, tiredly and turned to the men beside him, "They'll watch my back." Treville nodded. He was privileged to have these men under his command.

Aramis took a good look at D'Artagnan. "Alright, I think that's enough excitement for one day." The young man was sweating, as if he joined in the fight. "We don't get you back now and we'll be carrying you back."

D'Artagnan nodded. No argument meant that D'Artagnan was feeling the fatigue. Athos kept a support hand on his back as they headed back to the garrison. "Your last move on Bissette definitely shut him up." D'Artagnan laughed, "Porthos taught me that move."

Treville laughed, "Who do you think taught Porthos?" They enjoyed their walk back to the garrison. Talking and laughing about the useless Red Guards. If anyone had any doubt which regiment was superior, the doubt was squashed.

Athos, Aramis and Porthos sat around D'Artagnan's room. He had fallen asleep while Aramis was checking his wound. Now that the men who did this were caught and the Musketeers had rid themselves of a traitor, they could all rest easy.

Athos laughed at the pauldron they had made from D'Artagnan. "I can't believe he dared to wear this in the presence of the King."

Aramis shook his head, "That's enough to face a firing squad."

"Like the Captain said, not sure if he's brave or stupid." Porthos laughed.

Athos sobered as he thought about how D'Artagnan had conducted himself today. He was another man. He outsmarted the Cardinal and pushed him into a corner. He used his situation to his advantage, playing on the Queen's sense of justice and the King's love of tournaments. "He showed the kind of leader he can be today." Athos smiled proudly at the sleeping boy, "One day, he will lead the Musketeers."

Aramis nodded, "Anyone who can take on the Cardinal in front of the King is a man worth following."

Porthos smiled, "No justice could be sweeter than today's. We humiliated the Cardinal and the Red Guards. The men who did this to him will be trialled and sentenced. Today's a good day!"

Athos smiled. Today was a good day!

The END!


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